Stormy Within
by Sonic Jules
Summary: 10.Rose.....Rose is remembering the nightmares and pain her subconscious tried to keep hidden away, and the Doctor is having a hard time hiding his guilt about them.....Third and final installment of the 'Stormy' series..... Can be read alone or in order.
1. Chapter 1

**Stormy Within**

**By Sonic Jules**

**A/N** This is the last of the "Stormy" series, which can be read stand alone or behind one another, which you may prefer. Many thanks and a very special nod in the direction of Catharticone, who has been a beta, a blessing, and an inspiration to me.

**Disclaimers: I own nothing of the characters of "Doctor Who", nor anything else, really. Just my little imagination having a bit of fun.**

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Rose felt his fingers as they gently pushed the hair away from her face, and she opened her eyes just enough to see the Doctor's outline in the dimness of her bedroom.

"Rose?" he spoke gently.

"Yeah? Somethin' wrong?" she asked, figuring it would be the only reason he would wake her. As her focus became clearer, she noted the odd expression on his face.

"That's what I was going to ask you," he said, a small grin pulling at his mouth, though his concern was fairly clear.

"What?" she asked, no comprehension of his meaning.

"You've been asleep almost eleven hours. I was wondering if you might not be feeling well," he spoke, his tone expressing his worry.

"Must've been really tired," she said, sitting up and feeling his hand behind her shoulders, helping her. "I feel fine," she said, as if she'd assessed herself with that simple movement.

His right hand moved to her forehead, and she knew he was checking for a fever. "And I'm probably over reacting. But still ... No aches? No pains?"

Rose shook her head negatively. "Jus' tired," she said softly. "I'll get up now, okay?" She looked at him, knowing that's what he wanted. But all she really wanted was to crawl back under her comforter.

He stood up from his perch beside her on the bed and held his hand out to her. She took it, knowing he wasn't leaving until he saw her stand and believed she was truly all right. Once she was standing and met his eyes, his grin returned.

"See? 'M fine," she told him, releasing his hand quickly.

"Sorry," he answered. "Just needed to make sure."

"It's okay," she told him, though she was mildly perturbed at his intrusion. Sleep was wonderful, and now he'd interrupted it, taking her from her escape. She watched him as he just stood in place, looking at her.

"I'll leave you be," he said quickly, realizing he was staring at her. Her odd behavior was clearly puzzling him.

"Okay. See you in a bit, yeah?" She gave him a little smile, hoping to quell his worries.

The Doctor simply nodded at her then left her room, closing the door behind him. Rose stared at the door for a minute, sighing deeply as a frown crept over her features.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Rounding the corner of the TARDIS kitchen, Rose began searching for something to drink as she savored the silence that accompanied her. It seemed that ever since she'd recovered from the flu, the Doctor had been at her side constantly. 'Are you feeling all right?' had become his mantra. Then the waking her up earlier, well that had been a bit over the top, in her opinion.

It was almost as if he were feeling guilty. She knew she was better, the influenza crisis all but gone. He had helped her heal, and yet he was treating her like a porcelain doll, and that wasn't like him; not at all. Concern - yes. But this was bordering on the ridiculous. Problem was, she couldn't figure out just why he'd be feeling any guilt.

Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, she stood at the sink and turned on the spigot, thinking back on the dreams she couldn't quite remember when she was ill. She remembered feeling utterly sad, but couldn't determine where these feelings stemmed from. Water quickly filled the glass she held under the tap, then began washing over its rim and the hand she held it with, but she didn't feel it. The only thing she was feeling was the sadness that crept into her being very abruptly. It was only after she'd felt the sting of tears that she allowed herself to focus on her surroundings and the water that flowed freely down the drain.

Sitting down at the table, Rose sipped her water and tried to dampen those feelings which seemed to bubble up out of the clear blue. What she really wanted to do was cry, yet she couldn't fathom exactly why. Her forlorn face was the first thing the Doctor saw as he came round the doorway.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, taking in her appearance. "Rose?"

She looked up at him then, his voice interrupting her quiet contemplation, startling her when she realized he was standing right in front of her.

"Hey," she replied, drinking from her glass as if nothing were wrong.

"You all right?" he asked as he placed a hand on her knee, kneeling in front of her. She looked around everywhere but at him.

"Yeah, course I am."

"You looked like you were about to cry."

"Sleep in my eyes, just got done rubbin' 'em a bit," she made up quickly.

"You know," he began as he stood and walked behind her, searching a cupboard for tea bags, "I never did _get_ that - sleep in one's eyes. I mean, I understand what the saying refers to, I do. But really, having sleep in one's eyes sounds almost comical in my opinion. 'Course, it does sound better than sinus drainage seeping through the tear duct where air dries the mucus into ... ah, well, you know," he finished, apparently realizing he'd been prattling on again.

Before she knew it, he was sitting down in front of her with his mug, lifting and dropping a tea bag in it methodically as he worked its magic in the steaming water. "You feeling rested up a bit now?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so. How 'bout you? Any sleep?" she joined him in conversation, not wanting to arouse his worry further.

"Nope. Worked on the TARDIS for a bit, then took a break and went to the library to read while you were resting. I'll have the old girl fixed and ready to go where ever you'd like to in day or two. Have you any idea where that might be?"

The Doctor sat quietly across from her, waiting patiently for her answer. Instead she ignored the question.

"What were you readin' in the library?" she asked, looking at the water within her glass, tilting it distractedly.

"A book on your world's perceptions of ancient Egypt. Some things they were quite wrong about. Actually," he spoke, noting her disinterest, "they should've mentioned the spaceships and little green Martians, to make it more of a gripping read," he finished, waiting for her reaction.

"Yeah. Sounds good," she replied as she stood. Rose walked to the sink, set her cup in it, then headed out towards the hallway. "I'm gonna go take a shower. See you in a bit," she said as she left, missing the look of confusion on the Doctor's face.

OoOoOoOoOoO

The Doctor watched the retreating form of Rose Tyler as she left the kitchen. She'd been avoiding him and he wondered if she was remembering her dreams - the pain of their truth awakening within her. The Doctor sighed, then blew softly across the liquid in the mug he'd brought to his lips. The dreams of her subconscious disturbed him. It'd be hell what they would do to her if they made their way into her conscious mind.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Dressing herself in a gray sweat suit that she'd often worn for pajamas, Rose sat on her bed and brushed her hair carefully, lost in thought. While in the shower, she'd suddenly found herself thinking about Sarah Jane Smith, and that thought had brought on the tears. Sarah Jane had shared something very special with the Doctor. But that wasn't the reason she was crying, the realization sudden as she was setting her brush down on the nightstand. She'd been crying for Sarah Jane - knowing the pain she must've suffered at the loss of the Doctor so suddenly. Her Doctor.

Leaning back against her pillows, Rose brought her feet up on the bed as the lights dimmed, maneuvering them to bring the blanket up from the bottom and within her reach. Wrapping herself within its warmth, she closed her eyes and wished for sleep to take her. But it wouldn't. Sitting up, she sighed deeply and walked over to a chair in the corner, bringing her blanket with her. "No lights," she whispered as they began to glow, satisfied when they dimmed back down again.

Rose looked around the darkness of her room, appreciating it. She was in the mood for nothing. No music, no book to read, no chattering on and on about anything. She wanted to be left alone with her thoughts, hoping to remember the dreams she knew were just beyond her grasp. Peace and quiet. It was all she wanted.

So when the Doctor came knocking at her door, it was an annoyance she didn't want to be bothered with. Still, she couldn't very well ignore him, because he'd only come walking in anyway, asking why she didn't answer his knocking.

"Rose?" he spoke through the closed door.

"Yeah?" she answered, her tone none too welcoming.

"You busy?"

"No," she answered simply. After all, she couldn't very well lie to him.

"May I come in?"

"Yeah."

The door opened slowly and the room became brighter as the light from the corridor was allowed entry.

"Something wrong with the lights?" he asked as soon as he entered her room.

"Nope. Jus' prefer it dark at the moment."

The Doctor walked over to her bed and sat on the corner, facing her. "Okayyyy," he began, exaggerating the word a bit. "I suppose it helps not to see the clutter that way," he said, hoping for a reaction.

"I s'pose." He got none.

"You cold?" he asked, obviously seeing the blanket wrapped around her in the dimness.

"No, Doctor. I'm fine. I'm not thirsty. I'm not hungry. I'm not feeling ill. I'm just enjoyin' a little ... quiet time," she answered quickly.

"Ah, um, okay. Point taken," he told her, standing.

She thought he was going to walk out of her room, and was a little bit surprised when he leaned over in front of her. "Promise me you're not feeling sick, and I'll leave you alone to enjoy your 'quiet time'," he said gently.

Rose gave him a half-smile and nodded. "I'm not sick, just, reflective I s'pose. Got some things I need to sort out in my head is all."

The Doctor surprised her further by bending down a little bit more and placing a kiss on her forehead. "All right, Rose. I understand. Just come and get me if you need anything, won't you?"

"Yeah," she answered, giving him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. As soon as he left and closed her bedroom door, the smile on Rose's face fell. She'd have to go somewhere else if she wanted to be alone, obviously. She needed space for her own reflection. Needed to be somewhere quiet without being bothered. And most of all, needed to be able to focus herself and remember the dreams that were gnawing at her subconscious, just out of her reach - without interruption.

Giving the Doctor time enough to walk away from her room towards his next destination, Rose silently left her bedroom and made her way opposite his path. She'd walked seemingly endless corridors of the TARDIS, looking for a place where she'd be undisturbed. She opened doors along the way, checking out the different guest rooms and bathrooms and studies as she wandered. Hours had passed unknowingly to her as she continued on her little 'tour' of the ship. It was mindless bliss - occupying her thoughts with the vastness of the TARDIS rather than dwelling on the feelings she couldn't seem to control. Soon though, she became tired of roaming around and stopped, entering a room where the door was ajar, closing it behind her.

It was an exquisitely styled room - speaking volumes of taste and quality, in Rose's opinion. A satiny smooth cream colored comforter lay across a queen sized bed of carved cherry wood. There was a vanity against the furthest wall from where she stood, and Rose noted the small assortment of perfumes and a few items of make-up sitting neatly on top. Walking over to see it more closely, she absently ran a finger across the vanity, noting that there wasn't a single speck of dust on it.

A large dresser stood almost beside the vanity, and Rose found herself walking over to it and opening one of the smaller top drawers, peeking inside. It held a few linen handkerchiefs, which looked like silk against the dim light of the room. She pulled one out absently from the drawer before closing it.

Looking down at the handkerchief within her hand, she noticed one of the corners was monogrammed and she instantly recognized the initials. SJS. Sarah Jane Smith. This had been her room - hell, it still was in Rose's opinion, because in her eyes, it looked more like a shrine. She backed away absently from the dresser as she stared at the cloth in her hand, stopping only when the backs of her legs softly hit the bed. She sank down until she was seated, her face dull with shock.

Sarah Jane's room. Kept untouched no doubt since the day she'd been forced to leave it. Faced to leave her home on the TARDIS with a hope of returning that never would come true. All because the Doctor had taken her back to Earth, done what he had to do, and then abandoned her never to return.

Rose looked around a bit more, thoughts spinning through her mind so fast that she should've been dizzy. She greatly admired Sarah Jane after getting over her initial shock and the instant jealousy the knowledge of her spawned. And that wonderful woman had told Rose emphatically that being with the Doctor had been worth all the heartache she'd suffered over the years when she'd actually thought he was dead. To Rose, that was simply awe-inspiring. The woman had to be a saint, dealing with all that pain and still loving the man and thanking him for the time they'd had. For the most part though, Rose just didn't think she herself could be stong enough to be that kind.

Spotting a lamp on the bedside table, Rose found herself staring at the small crystals that hung from it, sparkling different colors now and then as the overhead light danced through them. She thought about another time with Sarah Jane, when the Doctor had asked her to come along with them - only, it wasn't with them, it was with him. But that wasn't what had happened, was it? It had been a dream! A horrible, nasty dream, and she remembered it now with such clarity that tears instantly formed in her eyes. If he could just leave Sarah Jane and never return, what would stop him from doing the same to her? How far off was that dream, anyway? Would that be her fate? Couldn't he do that with anyone else they met during their travels? Hadn't he almost done that to her with Reinette?

Reinette - oh God - he'd left her! Suddenly her memories opened up another of the nightmares her mind had obviously been trying to protect her from - the beautiful and sophisticated Reinette, connecting with the Doctor so quickly that all Rose could do was watch as the Doctor's infatuation grew into love with Rose barely biting back her jealousy. In her dream, the Doctor had told Rose that he was leaving her to be with Reinette and he was sorry. He'd left her and her heart had frozen with agony while she stood feeling more alone and abandoned and hurt than ever before in her entire life.

The sob that escaped Rose's lips was muffled only by the long-abandoned handkerchief of Sarah Jane Smith.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The Doctor rounded the umpteenth corridor as he continued searching for Rose, stopping at a door he oddly found to be partially opened. He walked in and sighed with relief at seeing her sitting on the bed, her back turned towards him. Quietly he closed the door behind him.

Rose heard him come in, and the look she gave the Doctor as she stood and faced him showed her anguish. 

"What are you doing in here?" they asked one another simultaneously.

Both stood and stared at each other for a moment, Rose keeping her head down but her eyes steady on him. Then she folded her arms across her chest and sat back down, facing away from him again as the Doctor placed his hands in his pockets.

"Are you followin' me?" Rose asked, a hint of accusation in her tone.

"Me?" he asked a bit dramatically, raising a hand to his chest. "Of course not."

"Yeah, right. Next you'll be comin' with me to the loo, I s'pose," she whispered quietly.

But there was nothing wrong with his hearing. "Only if you want me to," he replied evenly into the suddenly tense atmosphere.

Rose rolled her eyes, knowing he couldn't actually hear that action, at least. She turned towards him then, looking at him defiantly, raising her chin as he took a step closer. "What are you doin' here?"

"Oh, Rose," he said softly, suddenly noticing the wet tracks of tears lining her face from eyes to chin. He stepped towards her, intent on sitting beside her on the bed, but she seemed to know what he was going to do and stood up quickly, setting invisible boundaries as she stepped away from him.

"Rose? What is wrong with you?" he asked innocently, oblivious to everything except the hurt in her eyes.

"What's this?" she asked, her pain transforming into anger right before the Doctor's eyes as she waved her hands in the air around the room. "Some sort of shrine to 'er?"

The Doctor looked at her strangely for a moment before noticing where he was, and it was easy to see when he recognized it by the slight shock that suddenly took over his face. In a matter of only a very few seconds though, his face returned to its previous calmness. "No," he said, continuing to look around. "Nothing like that."

"You jus' leave her behind but keep the memory alive with this room for whenever it suites you?" she asked, her voice rising a few octaves.

"Of course not," he replied sternly.

"Then what's all this?"

"It's none of your business, actually," the Doctor answered quickly. He'd had enough of her accusing tone, and the words came out before he could stop them. 

Rose stared at him blankly for a moment, her mouth open and ready to argue, then suddenly she closed it tight. The anger that was so clear on her features moments before vanished, replaced with an unreadable expression. 

" You're right," she said simply, then walked around the Doctor towards the door. 

" Rose!" he exclaimed and she stopped, her hand on the door handle. "It's none of mine, either," he said quietly. 

She turned then, looking at his back, seeing he had yet to turn and face her. He spun around slowly then, looking around at different items in the room as if suddenly faced with an old memory. He took a deep breath and then met Rose's eyes with his own. 

" This is the TARDIS's way of remembering Sarah Jane. I haven't seen this room in many, many years," he offered by way of explanation. "Strange that she allowed you to see it, though," he whispered. 

To be continued... ... ... ... ... ... ...

----Be kind. Rewind. Oops! I mean review...


	2. Chapter 2

Previously In Chapter One...  
"This is the TARDIS's way of remembering Sarah Jane. I haven't seen this room in many, many years," (the Doctor) offered by way of explanation. "Strange that she allowed you to see it, though," he whispered.  
"You mean, you've not been in here since, since ..."  
"No," the Doctor said sadly.  
Rose pulled on the handle to the door, looking at him. "Maybe the TARDIS wanted you to see it, too."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The Doctor sat on the floor beside the center console, paying little to no attention to the work he had conjured up to perform on the TARDIS. The repairs had long been completed, but he hadn't bothered to tell Rose that. For one, he feared she might just ask to go home, and if she did he couldn't refuse her, no matter how much pain it would cause him. Secondly, he wanted to help her get through whatever this was that lay heavy on her thoughts. And as grand as distractions could be sometimes, this was one of those times when getting the problem out and over with would be the best way to go. If only he could convince her of that.

He noticed that she hadn't been eating much - barely getting by if you could call it that. And her sleep patterns were way off the charts - she was sleeping more than he could ever remember; these were clearly symptoms of depression.

She certainly wasn't acting her normal self, and he'd given her space, even though all he wanted to do was run to her and grab her shoulders, hold her fiercely and tell her everything would be all right. But he couldn't very well do that when he had no idea what was wrong. He wanted to know - desperately. He wanted to make her pain disappear. Somehow he had hoped that instead of dealing with it alone she would come to him.

But that wasn't happening She was keeping to herself, and as much as he wanted to give her space, it was only a matter of time before he would confront her.

Standing in front of the console, the Doctor closed his eyes and took a deep breath, determined to resolve this before it tore their friendship to shreds.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The Doctor stood in the doorway, watching Rose as she slept atop the covers on Sarah Jane's bed. He'd looked around only a short while before coming here, sensing that Rose had returned. She tossed and turned now and then with an occasional moan escaping her lips, obviously displeased with the personal demons in her dreams.

Daring the intrusion, he walked in and closed the door quietly behind himself, not wanting to irritate her with the bright lights from the corridor. He sat on the bed, watching her restless movements and the few moments of calm in between. If he was the cause of her pain then he would take her home, though the mere thought of that saddened him deeply. He simply didn't know what else to do. And the way she had left him had him sure that he was to blame.

"Doctor?" Rose whispered, having apparently awoken without him being aware - too lost in his own dark ruminations.

"Yes."

She sat up then, thinking he might be mad at her for falling asleep in Sarah Jane's room.

The Doctor took a deep breath as if he were steadying himself, then focused all his attention on her face as his hand reached up to gently cup her cheek. "Can I tell you something, Rose?" he asked quietly.

Something about his tone scared her, and a feeling of dread began stirring in her stomach, sure he was going to tell her he was either dying or sending her back home. "You can tell me anything, Doctor," she assured him.

He dropped his hand from her cheek then took both of her hands within his. "I'm scared, Rose," he spoke barely above a whisper.

"Oh God," she said in a sigh, grateful she wasn't standing because surely her legs wouldn't hold her. The Doctor just never got scared, so whatever was wrong was really, really big. If he was afraid ... "Why?" she finally asked, unwilling to run worst case scenarios through her mind.

"You," he began, holding her hands tightly, "you scare me. You've been wanting your own space; not wanting to talk to me. You've been sad enough to cry and won't speak with me about it. And I'm scared, Rose. I'm scared ... that you don't want to be here any more."

She tried pulling back a little, but he held on tight. She'd forgotten about her feelings and fears from the dreams she'd had, so worried had she been about the Doctor, and then he'd brought them all back like a slap in the face.

"You're already pulling away. What have I done? Tell me what's wrong - tell me what I did and let me at least try and fix it."

The pain was clear in his eyes - she'd made him suffer while she tried to deal with the dreams on her own. It was all so very clear now. She took a deep, cleansing breath.

"It's not you, okay? It's me. I've been rememberin' ... dreams. I think they're from when I was sick. But they, well, they all come from things that happened and things that hurt and ... I'm jus' trying to deal with 'em is all."

"Rose ... I remember them, too." She'd been looking down at their hands, but suddenly her eyes raised to his.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I was there with you, when your fever was high ... you talked a bit while you were, well, you were delirious. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together." Rose just stared at him and he watched as the tears formed in her big brown eyes. "You know I'd never willingly hurt you, don't you? Those dreams - that's all they were - just dreams - manifestations of the subconscious. They're not real."

"I know that," she replied, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. "But it still hurts. What if you ..."

"What? What if I what?"

"What if you don't want me around any more?"

"That, Rose Tyler, will never happen. Never," the Doctor spoke softly as he stood, pulling her hands towards him, letting them go to embrace her.

She hugged him back fiercely as the tears began to fall. His words just couldn't reassure her the way they should have though, and she couldn't stop her own words from spilling out. "It happened to Sarah Jane," she whispered.

The Doctor leaned back then, looking her straight in the eyes, still holding her. "Rose, that's not what happened. I brought her to Earth to keep her safe. I was leaving her to go fight a war - my war, and I didn't think I'd live to see her again. After the war on Gallifrey, when I survived, I had to deal with my own guilt and depression - it took a long time for me to try and forgive myself - I still haven't sometimes, but ... that's another story. I did go back for her after a time. But when I saw her again, she was actually happy - I saw it. With my own eyes - I had no idea she was waiting for me all those years - do you really think I would have left her like that?" Rose shook her head slightly but didn't speak, letting him continue. "When I finally had the, the strength to come back, I had regenerated. I found her in a cafe with a man. I watched them, Rose. They seemed so happy, and I realized then that I could never give her that. Oh, I could give her trips to stars and planets and times she'd never dreamed of, but I could never give her that calm peacefulness of being at home with someone she loved. No danger. No running for her life. The smile on her face was so, so - perfect. I turned around and left so she could be happy."

The Doctor was staring at the wall behind her, his eyes looking up high, his face lost in the memory. When his eyes met hers again they held his sorrow. "If I had known that what I'd seen wasn't as it appeared to be, I'd never have left that cafe alone."

"I believe you," Rose told him, and he could see it in her eyes that she did. "But," she paused, looking away from him to find her own imaginary spot on the wall, "What about Reinette?"

"She was a very special individual," he said honestly.

"I know. She was beautiful, an' charming, an' smart," Rose said, letting him go and turning away from him, "but you left me an' Mickey on that ship, thinkin' you could never return," she paused and turned to face him. "You left _me_ there with no way of gettin' home and you didn't think twice about it." Her tone wasn't harsh, but her words were spoken evenly to emphasize her point.

"Rose?" He held his hand out to her, and she took it, giving him the strength to continue. "I promised Reinette that I'd be there - that I'd save her when the time came. _You_ delivered that promise to her. And when that time came and I found the opportunity, I wasn't thinking about anything more than the promise I'd made."

"You were fond of 'er. Very much," Rose added. She wasn't accusing; she was simply stating what she'd seen to be true.

"Yes I was. But when I went through that mirror to save her, I wasn't thinking clearly about the consequences - I was only thinking about keeping her safe. Can you understand that? I would never, ever intentionally leave you behind. And I will never intentionally leave you. I've told you before - you can stay with me for the rest of your life - and I meant it. Still do. As long as it's within my power."

"'I'm so sorry," she said softly

The Doctor embraced her, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes at her reaction. "No, Rose. Please, no - don't be sorry - I'm the one who's sorry. I should've realized. I should've talked to you about those things when they happened instead of pretending they never did. I never meant to hurt you."

They held each other for a while, relishing in their embrace at the other's touch. Somehow they ended up sitting together on Sarah Jane's bed, holding on to one another for comfort.

"I think you were right," the Doctor said, once they'd both had enough time to compose themselves.

"'Bout what?"

"The TARDIS. She's a clever old gal, I'll tell you. Bringing out this room for you to find. She knew what you were going through, of that I have no doubt."

"She did it so we'd talk, yeah?" Rose asked, a genuine smile forming on her lips.

"Yep."

"But what if it hadn't worked?" Rose asked, suddenly curious.

"Oh. I'm sure she would've found something else, like the old stockade that's around in her depths somewhere. Probably would've found a way to lock us in there until we said our piece," the Doctor said with a tone of conspiracy.

"Oh, well, I'm glad this room worked out then."

"Yes, well, how about we go fix ourselves some tea - maybe she'll reward us for her meddling with some nice chocolate biscuits," he proclaimed as he stood, pulling Rose up by the hand he held firmly in his grasp.

Walking over to the bedroom door he pulled on it, but nothing happened. Turning the knob, he found it wouldn't budge.

The Doctor looked up to the ceiling. "Not funny!" he spoke loudly, trying to give the TARDIS a stern look as he spoke.

Rose reached her hand to the knob and turned it easily, revealing the corridor. Her laughter, and his, echoed behind them as they headed towards the kitchen.

The End

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OOOOOOOO

OOO


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